Savagery
by xLx
Summary: She was the ultimate healer. He was the ultimate killer. Kana doesn't know why she is inexplicably drawn to Hisoka. Perhaps it is because she could never hope to understand him. They are from two different worlds. He is terror in human form, she is saint personified. What could they possibly have in common?
1. Chapter 1

The first time she saw him, Kana Murasaki had just been a medic at the Celestial Tower. She was no one of importance—just a person with a knack for healing who had fallen on hard times. She had never understood the lure of the fighting pits. The crowds baying for blood. They never saw the aftermath, or had to deal with it.

Hisoka Morou, she knew, was a favorite. Dressed up in his clown get up, he looked more like a performer than a gladiator. They loved him.

He had sauntered in to her medical stall and plopped himself onto the crinkly sheets of the patient bed. Wordlessly, Kana strapped on her face mask, checked to make sure her hood was pulled over her head, and opened up her personal medic kit.

Kana had a talent for healing. In fact – she was probably one of the most powerful healers in the world. Just as the Zoldyck family was reknowned for their assassins line, the Murasaki family was reknowned for their world class healers. But the means in which the Murasaki family trained its lineage were just as strenuous as the Zoldyck's family. Which was why Kana had opted to leave. But by doing so, she had placed a target on her back. After all – who wouldn't want the healer who could heal all wounds?

Kana had traded in her glasses for contacts. Her long black silky hair – once envied by many of the girls in her class – was cut short to above shoulder length. In fact she had done such a poor job with it on purpose that her hair now reminded her of a porcupine. It was uneven, short, and bits and pieces would stick out if she tried to put it in a pony tail. She liked it. She shrouded herself in a deep navy cloak, being careful to never expose her face or the delicate body it covered. Kana was no longer protected by the family. But then again, she was never one to depend on people.

Her jade eyes examined the damage on Hisoka's body. Hisoka's serene face belied the blows she saw being dealt to him during the match. He had stood there, _laughing._ Laughing as the 200 pound _nen_ enhanced fighter rained a myriad of blows onto Hisoka's body.

Not that it mattered. The match ended like all of Hisoka's matches. Bloody.

"Take off your shirt please and sit up." Kana asked as she took out a roll of her personally enhanced _nen_ bandages. Her _nen_ was a combination of Enhancement and Emission, specialized to heal.

The fluorescent lights cast an errie sheen to Hisoka's defined muscles.

"See something you like?" He mused, golden eyes sliding to her.

If Kana hadn't worn her mask, he would've seen her blush. Wordlessly, she unfurled her _nen_ infused bandaged and placed hand on Hisoka's chest. Her fingers glossed over his defined abs, ghosting over his chest to his right shoulder. If she had time she would've marveled over how he would've been a biologically perfect specimen to examine in class, her mind already reciting statistics on the average male height and physique.

 _I wonder what his resting heart rate is._ She wondered to herself.

Her fingers came to an abrupt stop on his left shoulder, his eyes followed their movements, a slight tilt at the corner of his mouth.

In a fluid motion she _yanked_ at his famed "Texture Surprise", revealing a myriad of bruises flowering down his shoulder. If Hisoka felt any pain, he didn't reveal it, he simply continued following her movements.

It wasn't until she placed the tip of her bandage onto him that he _moved._ His pale, calloused hand engulfed hers in a crushing hold.

Kana was utterly terrified now but her body refused to show it.

"What an interesting aura you have." Murmured Hisoka, his head lowered over her shoulder, lips brushing against her ear.

Kana shuddered, but firmly placed her free hand over Hisoka's hand. Infusing it wih soothing _nen,_ she brushed it over his bruised knuckles. They faded instantly. It was a placating show of submission. She would not fight him. She was here to just heal him, and get her paycheck. None of the other healers dared to go near him.

"I've never seen _nen_ heal before!" he chuckled, his eyes now finally taking notice of her eyes. A curious shade of green, unique in these parts.

"What's your name?"

"Please let go of my hand," she intoned firmly.

But rather than do that, his other hand shot out to grab her other hand, enclosing it around the wrist. Firmly but surprisingly gently, he brought both her hands to his face and examined them, his cool breath lightly touching her palms. Hisoka towered over her, but right now his face only showed curious interest. She'd seen the near orgasmic look on his face as he stalked the prey in his fights. Kana was glad that she was never on the receiving end of such brutality and perversion.

Kana _hated_ being touched. So in a practiced move that was very much reflex, she simultaneously released a precise shock of _nen_ into her hands, and swiftly yanked her hands out of his.

And that was her mistake.

In that single act she realized that she had slipped. The amount of _nen_ she just used wasn't that impressive. But the precision and speed of her delivery betrayed her as a master of _nen._ Few had such detailed control of their _nen._ And few, she bet, could escape out of Hisoka's deathly grip. She had only just realized the blooming bruises on her wrists. He had been gripping her tightly, but her basic _nen_ had protected her from a grip that would've had any normal being writhing.

Shock registered in Hisoka's eyes, and then quickly was replaced with calculation. His mouth stretched into a smile as his eyes began to assess her. He leaned forward eagerly, breath beginning to pick up _._ Even a normal being could sense the slight crackling of his excited _nen._

But she would never give him the chance to say what he would've said or do what he would've done. For Kana launched herself to the door, grabbed her medical kit, and bolted out of the Celestial Tower quicker than she had ever moved in her life.

But it was too late. Because in that split second of self-defense, she had inexplicably changed her quiet life forever.

She was too far gone to have heard Hisoka's delighted chuckle.

 _Ahhhh….I've found a new toy._


	2. Chapter 2

_4 weeks, 3 days._

That was how long it'd been since Kana's last encounter with Hisoka Morou.

What did she expect? Kana hated to admit it, but she was…..deflated. It was with great relief and perhaps a little disappointment that Kana returned to her quiet, and unassuming life. She walked an hour to work each day, greeted her coworkers, healed some fighters, and went back home to a meager dinner before repeating the process again.

Of course, Kana had been raised literally in a war zone. Her family frequented battlefields, hospitals, and mafia warzones….

 _"Healers are not weak," Kana's mother whispered to a five year old Kana. "To be a Murasaki means to be death incarnate."_

 _They were in "The Tool Room". An outsider may have called it a kitchen. Kana liked to nickname it "Slaughterhouse", much to her older brother's annoyance. It was a cave, with wooden tables, sinks, mixing bowls, patient tables, stoves, pots, and tools. It was a surgical room crossed with a kitchen crossed with a Home Depot._

 _70% ethanol that coated every surface assaulter Kana's nose like a sharp slap._

 _"If you're going to survive as a Murasaki, you must be god of the battlefield," Kana's mother intoned, "You must never let anyone touch you. You must heal all wounds. You must be powerful beyond reproach." Her mother's eagle like eyes assessed Kana's slight frame, already making calculations._

 _"Mom…" Kana watched as her mother skimmed her fingers along the wall of knives, scalpels, and other surgical supplies._

 _"Mom…I don't like these games." Kana whispered._

 _"Put your hand out, dear." Kana's mother demanded, finally selecting a serrated knife, 8 inches long. Kana obeyed, laying her tiny right hand on the wooden table, palm down._

 _With precision, Kana's mother stabbed the blade through Kana's soft hand, penetrating every ligament and bone possible along the way._

 _Kana cried out, fighting the urge to tense her right hand. To resist would only make it worst. One needs to relax. To embrace the pain._

 _"Do not cry." Kana's mother slapped her. "We have no need to cry. You will come back to me in one hour or else I will pierce your other hand. For a child your age, only 100ml of your blood would be considered enough for life threatening blood loss. You have no time to waste."_

 _And with that, Kana's mother walked to entrance, her heels echoing across the cavernous "Tool Room". She turned off the light, and locked the door._

 _"You will thank me one day."_

Then again, _anything_ beat living in that horrible household. Kana was alone, but she was also free. She could do with quiet.

Kana glanced at the TV on the wall in the tiny medic room. She had watched Hisoka's first match since their last encounter. He was facing Ugo – another brute in the 200s. She marveled at how small Hisoka looked in comparison to the roid heavy contestants. He packed so much _power_ , so much _speed,_ for someone who looked so…. _normal._ But that was T.V. Anyone would look tiny compared to 400lb _nen_ enhancers. In fact, the 200s was mostly composed to enhancers. They had a natural affinity for combat and muscle growth.

As an enhancer herself, Kana was aware of her affinity for combat – but her family had trained her nen use for…. _other skills._ What she had been taught was not something conventional. And especially not something people should see.

She watched as Hisoka yawned, obviously disappointed with Ugo. Rather than sport his trademark smirk, Hisoka had simply raised an eyebrow in displeasure at Ugo's attempts to land a powerful but slow _nen_ enhanced punch. The giant was battered beyond relief – face smashed in, a couple of ribs broken, etc. Kana would have her work cut out for her – she was assigned to Ugo today.

Kana watched, with _gyo_ enhanced eyes, watching as Hisoka made as if to pierce Ugo's chest with his hand. Hisoka hadn't even needed to use _nen_ in the fight. He had dodged every single punch except the first one –probably one he gave for free anyways. She held her breath – she knew a killing blow when she saw one. But Ugo mercifully collapsed before Hisoka could release his bloodlust. With a visible _Tch_ Hisoka dropped his hand, and resumed his displeased stature. He was bored.

 _"And Hisoka wins – when will this beast ever be sto-"_ Kana switched off the T.V with a heavy sigh, and readied her medical kit. It was a busy season – fights every day. Medics were always understaffed, but the pay was good this time of year. The faster the fighters were healed, the more fights. The more fights, the more revenue. Maybe she'd finally have enough to afford some nice food on the upper levels of the tower.

The doorknob turned behind Kana as she lay out her medical supplies.

"Ugo, how many times am I going to have to heal your – uhhhhh," Kana slowed as she realized that she wasn't quite facing Ugo.

"You're not Ugo." Kana blurted.

His slanted eyes eyed her with mirth, as he ran a hand through his brightly dyed hair. "No I am not."

"How'd you get in _here?"_ Kana asked, incredulous. Kana felt pinned by his gaze, as if he was _daring_ her to make a break for it like last time.

"I can be _persuasive."_ Hisoka laughed, clearly getting some sort of an inside joke.

He tilted his head back, eyes looking down her, "So, little medic. Show me your _skills."_

On reflex, Kana's eyes instantly scanned his body, assessing everything from head to toe. He didn't _seem_ hurt, but her trained eye notice slowly healing wounds accumulated from months of neglect.

For christ sake the man was a walking _zombie._ With trembling fingers, Kana reached out to brush his forearm, _gyo_ eyes picking up subtle changes in muscle wrapping around what could've been a stress fracture.

Kana's breath hitched, remembering herself. She was standing a little too close to this famed killer. At this range he towered above her, her eyes only just reaching his chest. She noticed the soft fabric of his shirt, reminiscent of card designs.

Hisoka stood perfectly still, observing the medic examining his arm. It _had_ been bothering him, but he had completely forgotten where he'd gotten that annoyance from. Perhaps it was from his match a month ago, those random thugs who'd bumped into him, that brash hunter he'd come across….it really didn't matter. He didn't care to remember.

He noted she was tiny, her wiry arms lightly probing his arm. Although the medic was shrouded by her cloak, he could see that she had a delicate frame. He was impressed – remember that display of finesse she had when she freed herself from her grasp. The _defiance._ The _precision._ Hisoka inwardly chuckled. What surprises did this little body hold? What were the possibilities of her abilities?

Kana's hands grasped his toned forearm gently, ready to heal. Her _nen_ surged to her hands, transferring to Hisoka's arm, and began to probe inwards to the stress fracture she sensed.

Hisoka stiffened, but otherwise held still. He never usually let other people touch them with _nen,_ but he'd make an exception for her.

"Amazing," he breathed. "What _lovely_ aura you have." Hisoka sighed, excitement stirring in his belly. His lips thinned, just barely containing his lust. Her aura was warm. Non-intrusive. Completely and perfectly calibrated to his. He had never seen such seamless and perfect healing.

If Kana had was affected by his words, she did not show it. But rather, was solely focused on healing the weeks old wound.

And just like that it was over, the warmth fading. Jade eyes met gold as Kana stood straight, posture perfect from years of discipline.

"Done. Your forearm is now in perfect condition. It was bruised three weeks ago. I assume you punched a hard surface at the wrong angle. Original prognosis would've been another three more weeks plus scaring." Kana intoned. If there was anything she could rely on, it was to lose herself to protocol. This was familiar. He was just a patient, she reminded herself. That was all.

"Why'd you run?" Hisoka inspected his forearm, _taking a seat in a chair right in front of the door._

Kana cursed, so much for her quick departure. Unable to hide her discomfort, Kana shuffled her feet, looking down.

"You surprised me."

"Ooooh, are you _afraid of me?"_ Hisoka's syrupy voice taunted her. He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees.

"No." Kana looked up defiantly. His question had pierced her uncertainty like a beacon of light through the dark. She was so _not_ afraid of this clown. In the end, he was just a bloodthirsty killer. And she had had her fair share of his ilk. He was a blood thirsty, crazed killer, finding meaning in existence through ending the lives of others.

It is much harder to build than to destroy; to save than kill. He would never understand that being strong wasn't everything. And how hard she worked to undo the damage people like him wreaked.

"What is your name, little medic?"

Kana looked at him, debating on what use there'd be in not telling him.

"Kana," she relented. He could easily find that just by asking around anyways.

"And who taught you how to heal like that?" Hisoka eyed his forearm with interest.

Tch. He was asking dangerous questions. The last thing she wanted was to be ousted as a _Murasaki._ It would paint a target on her back. From her family, their enemies, or anyone else desiring their bloodline.

"A hunter. She never told me her real name." Kana lied. It was a good lie.

"And are you a hunter?" Hisoka's eyes glittered dangerously, leaning even more forward.

"I have no desire to take the hunter's exam." Kana replied, occupying herself with packing up her medical kit. She disliked his probing.

"Have you ever learned to _fight?"_

And the room _exploded_ in that instant. Not a C4 explosion. An explosion of _ren._ The bloodlust was palpable in the room, his _ren_ blasting through her. Her own _nen_ immediately shot up defensively, protecting her from his intent.

She gulped as his _ren_ , an almost sticky substance suffocated her.

"No _._ " Kana sniffed, hoping he'd buy her bluff.

A playing card flashed to her face—Kana twisted her head to the side just in time to avoid being impaled by a joker. How apt.

Kana contorted her body to the side again as three more cards darted at her, aiming right for her heart and her stomach.

 _A Murasaki is untouchable._

As part of some sick training program, her family members would just randomly chuck sharp objects at her. If they missed – they'd have to work on their aim, or she'd at least improve in dodging. If they hit, well, she'd better hope she could heal it in time. They always aimed for the vitals. Always.

Kana assessed Hisoka again. She could try to fight. But running was always easier, and she had never truly been in a one on one fight before.

"You're _fun"_ Hisoka grinned. He crouched predatorily, hands flourishing a new deck of cards.

Kana kicked him viciously in the face, summoning as much raw _nen_ to her foot as possible. She'd be damned if she had to dance like a chicken to this clown's fancy.

"Agh," Kana cursed. It felt like her foot collided against steal. Hisoka's head had whipped to the side, but the rest of his stance remained rock solid.

"What are you made of, _titanium?"_ She cried in disbelief. She sent a soothing shock of _nen_ to her foot, immediately healing the bruises.

"Ahhh, that was a good kick." Hisoka stood up, rubbing his cheek. The malicious _ren_ vanished, and he resumed talking to her as if they were only just having a pleasant conversation.

"Let's play again some time!" Hisoka smiled cheerfully, walking out the exit.

It wasn't a minute later that Kana realized she wasn't breathing, still locked in her defensive stance.

She thought her trembling was from fear.

Hisoka knew better. He saw her trembling as _excitement._ Delighted with his new toy, he strolled merrily back to his headquarters, day considerably improved since his lukewarm match.


	3. Chapter 3

Hisoka was thrilled –he had run out of toys and this one seemed _especially_ tasty. It was like she was a gift wrapped surprise –he liked those the best. Try as he might, he could not fathom the brute force needed to penetrate his _nen_ defense and shatter his right cheek bone. Wincing, he patched it up with _Texture Surprise._ He'd have to get to healed later.

Hisoka was extremely bored. He'd been bored of the enhancer types that'd fight him head on, telegraphing their moves. What he needed was a _nen_ master, who'd let him feel the _rush_ again. Someone who'd beat him within an inch of his life, push him over the edge. Someone who would truly test him in strength, power, and tactics. Like precious jewels, there were few who'd meet those standards. There were especially few that could surprise him. Hisoka disliked transmuters the most. They were like him. Sly, sneaky, and untrustworthy. But most of the time they neglected physical training.

Kana was like an unpolished jewel he had unearthed. He could not read her. He couldn't make her paralyzed with fear. He sensed that even with all her nervousness, she never felt remotely threatened by him. She was hiding something, and he wanted to unravel her. He wanted to know _everything_ about this deceptively deadly girl he had let touch him.

And that was another thing that piqued his interest. The warmth of her _nen_ was almost addicting. He felt a spark when she first touched him. And then warmth flowing into the arm she healed.

He'd touch her back. He'd paint her a luscious red, force that warm _nen_ to explode out of her frame.

 _I wonder how she screams._ Hisoka wondered. _How will she run from me._

He'd be disappointed if she begged. He'd be amused if she fought –which is why he'd have to corner her. Force her to flower prematurely. He wanted to see how he could _push her._

But that would have to wait. Hisoka had to be careful around the perceptive medic. Women often thought Hisoka was above killing them. Not true. None were ever strong enough to be considered. Kana was already wary with him from the start. One slip up and she would disappear from his grasp forever.

He watched the unsuspecting medic from afar, using _zen_ to surpress his _nen._ She had her medic bag slung over her shoulder and her hair tied up in a ponytail, swishing back and forth. She opted not to wear the medic mask today. Kana was commuting home from the cobbled streets of the market. With the smell of rotting fish, cries of wares from sellers, and the bustling crowd, it would be quite difficult for her to detect him.

Kana stopped. Hisoka froze. While he had taken off his make up and washed out the gel, he could've slipped.

Kana turned, and Hisoka prepared to greet her, thinking up an excuse.

But instead, Kana took a long sniff, gazing wonderingly to the bakery she was in front of. She looked longingly at the chocolate cake in the window display, marveling at the intricate frosting. Kana took out her wallet and opened it, frowning.

Hisoka wondered why the medic seemed to be tight with her purse. People would pay millions for her skills. She could easily be rich. Intriguing. She either chose to not offer her skills for pay or she was hiding.

Kana seemed to relent, going in and coming out of the bakery happily munching on a chocolate chip cookie. Hisoka had never seen her smile. Her dimpled cheeks had a smudge of chocolate on them as she licked her fingers.

Hisoka licked his lips. _He was hungry._

He followed Kana for an hour, as she walked home, never taking his eyes off of her. She lived in a townhouse on the outskirts of town. The sun was setting, and the path she took was forested, casting long shadows on the secluded dirt path she took back home. It was a relatively small townhouse, just three stories high. It probably held at most 18 people.

Kana entered, walking all the way up to the third floor and opening a window to let in air.

A few hours later Hisoka was still perched on a tree, fiddling with his playing deck to pass the time when he realized she had fallen asleep despite leaving her window open. It was laughable. He could swoop in on this defenseless girl right now and _kill her._

He could ravish her. Surprise her in bed. Make her scream as he had his way with her. Hisoka wondered how those soft dimpled cheeks would feel, and what kind of fight she'd put up.

They could be intimate. He always loved to pick the brains of enhancers. Their earnest purity was a contrast to Hisoka's fickle nature. Truth be told, Hisoka was somewhat jealous of a stereotypical enhancer's determination. Enhancers were perseverant, diligent, inspiring, etc. Hisoka bet they never felt the _hunger._ They never experienced true helplessness. They lived their lives in the sun, taking their enhancer abilities for granted.

Hisoka loved to break their minds. To plunge their world in despair.

Hisoka waited until Kana's _nen_ dulled. She was lying curled around a pillow, the moonlight illuminating her tranquil face. The book she was reading was still open.

Noiselessly, Hisoka swung into her window, his figure shadowing hers as he crouched on the window sill.

Still no response. It was getting harder to fight his building erection. It didn't help that she was quite beautiful in her own way. Her jade eyes were unique, making a sharp contrast with her pixie cut. Her long lashes cast slight shadows on her pale cheeks. Her dimples were no longer there—her tiny mouth fully relaxed.

Hisoka easily distributed the weight in his feet perfectly so that the floorboards wouldn't creak. He was master of stealth.

Leaning over, he picked out a few lines in her book,

 _"Remember; no matter how desperate the situation seems, time spent_ _  
_ _thinking clearly is never time wasted."_

A self-help book? She didn't seem the type.

 _"_ _1\. Organize before they rise!_ _  
_ _2\. They feel no fear, why should you?_ _  
_ _3\. Use your head: cut off theirs._ _  
_ _4\. Blades don't need reloading._ _  
_ _5\. Ideal protection = tight clothes, short hair."_

Perhaps it was a book on the art of mass killings. Or war. Hisoka found those books boring. Killing came naturally to him, he had no need to read a book for it.

But then he saw the last line:

 _"_ _But no matter what happens to the surviving humans, there will always be the walking dead."_

Hisoka couldn't help himself, what on earth was this medic reading...

His hands gingerly picked up the book, noting the page number. Flipping it over, he read:

" _The Zombie Survival Guide: Complete Guide on Surviving the Undead"_

Hisoka threw his head back in silent laughter, rocking his body back and forth. Out of all the bedtime books he thought this composed medic would be reading, a gag book on _zombie survival tactics_ was the last.

After dutifully restoring the book to its original place, Hisoka turned his full attention on her.

 _You have one of the most deadly fighters in the Celestial Tower right next to you and you don't even realize it._

It was hysterical. He deserved a medal in patience. Unable to help himself, he reached out with his index finger, holding his breath.

It came as a shock to him, when his finger came into contact with the soft skin on the exposed nape of her neck. He shuddered with desire. This close to his prey, and he _still_ wasn't noticed.

He could kill her now.

Kana shifted, Hisoka darted his hand back. He'd been too bold. If he kept his back to her, and covered the moonlight with his figure, perhaps he'd be fast enough out of the window.

Instead, Kana curled into an even tighter ball instant, toes rubbing each other.

"Mmmmm" her brow puckered, rubbing her cheek against the pillow.

What he would give to know what she was thinking about now.

Hisoka remained still as a statue, watching her even breathing.

He would have to leave—unable to control himself further. In a whimsical gesture, Hisoka grabbed a red quilt from her table. With a flourish, he laid the blanket on top of her. Stealthily, Hisoka climbed out the window, and shut it softly.

Tonight would be his little secret.

* * *

Kana's exchange with Hisoka in the medic room was just the first of an odd series of confrontations. He would pass her in the hallways, appearing unenthused, barely sparing her a glance. Then the next day he would focus on her with such intensity that Kana wondered why the walls didn't crack with the pressure. He would leer, laugh, skip, smirk, growl, etc. He was unpredictable. Kana would only nod, or perhaps hurry down another hallway as fast as possible before he could catch sight of her. She didn't know how to deal with him.

One time he caught her eye, and Kana had only given him the slightest of nods –she was busy that day. When they neared, Hisoka had feinted at her, almost nipping her ear in a playful bite. She flinched, almost backing into the person behind her.

His laughter reverberated through the halls as Kana profusely apologized to the miffed woman. Damn the clown.

Another time, she had spotted his cone of flamboyant orange hair through the crowds. Kana immediately hid behind a corner for 5 minutes until he had disappeared. Much to her dismay, she had been scolded for showing up to work late. And she earned some _very_ odd looks from people passing by.

Kana was called in today to do some light healing from some 100s matches. Nothing worse than broken bones were to be expected –she'd be in and out in an hour or so.

100s fighters were not afforded the privacy of single rooms. Today she'd be in a larger room with a few other medics.

Much to her surprise, Hisoka strolled in this time, with, as best as she could say, a jolly spring to his step.

"Hisoka-sama, 200s fighters are to be treated in their own private rooms," the head medic rubbed her hands nervously. He was an unpredictable beast. While he had not harmed a medic yet on purpose, he had once gone and killed a couple of fighters who tried to forfeit prematurely in the match. Unfortunately he had been either completely blind of or just didn't care for the screaming medics trapped in the room during his last carnage.

"I seemed to have done so much damage in the last match that all the healers in the 200s were called to treat the last fighter," Hisoka shrugged, eyes deliberately landing on Kana's figure. Kana searched around, desperate to find _any_ patient that needed her. He had seen her _gawking._

 _He's a perfect specimen. It's scientific awe._ Kana grumbled inwardly.

"Hisoka-sama," the head medic bowed, "I will treat you personally. Kana respected the head medic – Mira. She was strict, but she took responsibility. Mira had noticed that Hisoka was indeed the biggest threat in the room—Mira was brave to take him on. Silently thanking Mira, Kana rushed out of the room, intent on "going to the bathroom." She couldn't stand being in the same room as him any longer. Distance was best to dissuade the eerie effect Hisoka had on her.

"I want _her,"_ Hisoka gestured a well-manicured thumb over towards Kana's hastily retreating figure. Kana froze, not daring to turn back. Instead she settled for half way, placing an antiseptic bottle on the shelf.

"Hmm…" Mira eyed the two curiously. Kana eyed Mira meaningfully. "I'm afraid Kana seems to be be….busy" Mira slowly said.

"I _insist."_ Hisoka mused. "Kana~!" he called. "You've been avoiding me all week, don't keep me waiting."

"If Hisoka-sama insists." Mira beckoned over to Kana.

" _Let me know if you are in trouble"_ Mira whispered to Kana as she walked by briskly, and left Kana standing alone in the middle of the fluorescently lighted room with Hisoka.

"You didn't seem so scared of me the last time you treated me." Hisoka looked down at her, hands settling on his hips.

"You're unpredictable." Kana scowled. She didn't know what would incense him. What would make him tick. What she _did_ know, was that she was playing a very _dangerous_ game. Unable to keep her temper controlled, Kana felt the need to quip at him.

"You're the reason why I'm busy 24/7." Kana scowled. "I had to surgically remove a _card_ from a poor fighter's frontal lobe."

"He survived?" Hisoka looked at her, a grin spreading across his features.

"Didn't think you'd be concerned about his health." Kana looked at him quizzically. Perhaps….he was just crazy in the ring.

"Oh no, I don't remember who he was. But to think – you managed to save him after I impaled him in the forehead. You _must_ show me some time."

"Are you going to impale someone again?" Kana said, half joking. Hisoka's mischievous grin stopped her cold. This guy _was_ insane.

Hisoka remained silent, waiting for her to continue embarrassing herself.

"Where are you hurt." Kana sighed, gesturing for him to take a seat on a stool. On the low stool, his head only came up to her shoulder. However, it did nothing to diminish his presence in the room. In fact, it made Kana more uncomfortable seeing his golden eyes up close.

"Maybe you can find it?" Hisoka propped his chin on his hand, clearly delighted in making her life difficult.

" _Hisoka,"_ Kana was exasperated. Mira turned around, her hawk like hearing catching Kana's sigh.

Kana gulped, turning back to Hisoka, "I'll do the best I can" she replied, in an overly sweet voice.

"That's the spirit." Hisoka chirped. The bastard had won.

"Promise you'll stay still." Kana pleaded. The last thing she wanted was to have another playing card chucked at her face.

"I'll be still." Hisoka promised, remaining in position. Satisified, Kana removed her cloak and medic mask, getting ready to find his injuries. It would be like an autopsy. Sort of.

He looked like _The Thinker,_ chin resting on his fist, sculpture perfect muscles, and marble skin. Except his eyes remained open, following her movements. A slight smirk graced his otherwise stone like face.

Kana started with his right arm, placing both of her hands on his biceps. She smoothed her hands down his arm slowly, sensing for any exceptions in his ligaments or muscles.

Her _Gyo_ infused eyes could easily find injuries caused by _nen_ – but Hisoka had none. She would have to spread her _nen_ throughout his body to gain a feel for any injuries.

Continuing on, she examined his other arm. True to his word, Hisoka remained still as a statue. If he hadn't seen the quiet rise of his chest, she would've thought he made a perfect statue.

"My butt hurts," Hisoka's breath brushed on her hand, tickling her. She was looking at his fist.

Kana's cheeks colored, snapped her eyes to his, "Wha-"

"Just kidding," Hisoka smiled before she was about to shove him off the stool.

"Alright, I'm going to need you to stand, please take your shirt off."

"I was wondering when we'd get to the good part."

"Why do you always have to be so…so _perverted?"_

"I saw you examining a near naked Ugo – you didn't seem to have any problem with _him."_ Hisoka cocked his head to the side, tossing his shirt onto the table.

 _He's not attractive as hell._

"He's not looking at me like his next meal." Kana countered, willing herself not to blush.

As she was examining his chest, he asked, "Why don't you fight back?" Hisoka asked.

"I don't need to." Kana replied, probing his side.

"Even if I could _kill you?"_ Hisoka hissed in her ear, too soft for anyone to hear.

Kana stiffened, "No. Even _if_ you could kill me." She whispered. He would never be able to kill her. No one could. Her mother made sure of that.

"That sounds like a challenge." She'd kick herself later if Hisoka did force her to situation where escape wasn't possible.

"I don't want to hurt people." Kana replied. "Killing is overrated."

"You think you can hurt _me?"_ Hisoka's eyes glittered dangerously.

"I'm a healer. Healing is an art form. Murder is not." Kana sidestepped the question.

"You have not seen me fight, have you?" Hisoka chuckled.

"I have." Kana admitted reluctantly. She had to admit, he was graceful. He never wasted a movement, and was a perfect tactician. She seldom saw any of his good matches—ones that lasted over a few minutes. But when anyone did come close to matching Hisoka in both strength, speed, _and_ wit, it was a breathtaking match.

Until she had to clean it up.

"Look, I don't know where you're hurt, and I _don't_ want to take off your pants." Kana snapped, fed up with Hisoka's teasing. Their conversation was spiraling down on a dangerous path. Again.

"I'll save that for another time." Hisoka laughed. "But this whole time you've been examining me, you've never looked me in the eye," he pouted, disappointed.

Kana's eyes snapped to his face, and comprehension dawned on her face.

Her hands shot forward, placing her hands on the sides of his face. Hisoka leaned down to accommodate her, hands bracing his knees. Kana was too preoccupied with his injury to note the uncomfortable intimacy of the situation.

His cheek was crushed from where she last kicked him.

"I'm sorry." Kana said, ashamed of herself. He had come in to be treated for the injury she had inflicted herself.

"Like I said, it was a good kick." Hisoka chuckled, breath tickling her hands. Kana concentrated on his face, immersing his cheekbone in her _nen._ Within a minute, it was good as new.

"I didn't realize I hurt you. You didn't look hurt!" Kana wrung her hands, extremely embarrassed.

"Oh I've had much worse." Hisoka shrugged. "But if you want to make it up to me, please allow me to take you for dinner tonight."

" _Dinner?"_ Kana sputtered, incredulous.

"I must apologize for my terrible behavior last week." Hisoka insisted, a perfect smile stretching across his face.

Too perfect. He was obviously up to something. Out of all the weird expressions he had made at her, this was the most normal.

And that definitely set her on edge.

"I know a wonderful ramen place that has _amazing_ green tea mocha."

"I'm busy tonight, you know how it is, boss working you really hard." That was the best excuse she had. Seriously, an excuse? She should've just told him 'hell no'.

"Kana you are not needed tonight." Mira swooped in. "I'd hate to think that I was _working you hard."_ Mira commented drily.

Kana almost melted on the spot.

"I'll pick you up tonight." Hisoka waved Kana's attempts to explain herself away.

Kana watched Hisoka's retreating figure in disbelief.

She whirled around, " _Mira!"_ She threw her hands up in an uncharacteristic sign of impatience.

"I've always wondered what Hisoka's type was." Mira mused, smoothing away the wrinkles in her hair.

"Dead. His type is dead." Kana groaned.


End file.
